


How I Need You

by Scoobee



Category: Warcraft (2016), Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Fights, Implied Relationships, Kidnapping, Realization, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-22 15:54:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7445047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scoobee/pseuds/Scoobee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Khadgar and Lothar get in a large argument and stop talking to each other, Khadgar gets taken. Lothar doesn't notice at first, or care really, but then things happen and all he wants is for the spell-chucker to be safe. </p><p>Sorry this was a hard one to summarize, but hopefully you'll figure it out as it goes along.<br/>Implied Khadgar/Lothar, although not a whole lot of romantic stuff between them, if that makes sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> (Set after events in movie.)
> 
> Hello! This will be a very short chapter, I apologize, but hey, more to come. 
> 
> Happy reading!

“Why don’t you ever listen to me? I know what I’m doing! I know how to handle my magic! I could’ve saved more of your men, had you just listened to me,” Khadgar said, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Your ‘magic’ gave us away! Had you not let that blasted fireball go, that tree wouldn’t have caught fire and given away our position! I am the commander here. You don’t know what goes into fighting a war, spell-chucker,” Lothar fired back, pointing an angry finger at him. The two of them stared at each other as Khadgar thought of a response.

“I knew what I was doing. I’ve said that countless times. Why can’t you just trust me? Stop being such a stubborn soldier and open your mind!” The mage immediately regretted this as the older man approached him, backing him up to the wall.

“I lost my only son to Medivh’s bloody magic, and now I’ve lost even more of my men to yours! Do _not_ tell me how to fight a battle! You need to learn your place,” Lothar answered, his strong hand holding the mage against the wall. They glared at each other, the tension in the room heating up Khadgar’s cheeks. Lothar released him from the wall, going to put his shoes on.

“All I ask is to be appreciated, Lothar. I know about war too. I’m sorry for what happened and for undermining you. I want to be helpful. I just want to feel needed in all this,” Khadgar said, heading for the door.

“Your want to feel ‘needed’ cost people their lives today, kid. I don’t know how much help you’ve brought to us,” Lothar answered coldly. Khadgar’s eyes widened at the remark, cheeks blushing further. He opened the door and left with a slam, presumably to the Mage Tower.

“Good riddance,” Lothar mumbled, a small part of him feeling remorseful about everything that just happened. He figured a nice drink would stop the feeling, and started on to the tavern, wanting to forget.


	2. Buzzed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of slow chapter, but will pick up soon I assure you ;)
> 
> Happy reading!

Khadgar hated walking around at nights. He hated not knowing what would lurk in the shadows or around the corner. He just wanted to make it back to the tower. He strolled past one of Stormwind’s bars and heard the drunken laughter and fun taking place inside. He felt himself want to go in and have a few, but he knew sooner or later Lothar would come in. He really wasn’t in the mood to talk to him yet.

_‘How could he say something like that to me?’_ Khadgar thought, _‘I care for him, and he treats me like a child. I thought we had something..and the way he looked at me the other night.’_

Shaking the memory out of his head, Khadgar continued past the tavern, and on through to the Trade District. He reached the street that led to the gates out of the city, connected to the road leading to the Mage Quarter.

_‘Maybe I do need a drink for once,’_ he thought. Khadgar looked up at the dark Mage Tower, and decided to leave it unlit tonight. He headed for the gates, making his slow trek for the Lion's Pride inn down in Goldshire.

* * *

 

Lothar preferred his ale poured quickly and without hesitation out of fear of him having one too many. He knew the bartender at the Gilded Rose would keep the alcohol flowing until it really was too much, so that became his favorite spot. He and the bartender made eye contact as soon as Lothar walked through the door, and an ale was seated and waiting for him like an old friend when he reached his usual bar stool. The drink soothed him instantly, muscles relaxing after the heated discussion with Khadgar.

_‘Damn that kid. I don’t know how else to show him I care if he can’t listen to me,”_ Lothar wondered, another ale already being poured. Drink and drink was served, and Lothar slowly felt the effects coming over him. The familiar buzz entered his mind, and he welcomed it. Lothar was tired of losing people, but he figured Khadgar would come back.

_‘He always manages to come back, doesn’t he? Besides its not like I need him._ He _needs_ me,’ he assured himself, downing yet another ale.

“Sorry to have to do this again, Lothar, but I think its your time,” the bartender said, grabbing the usual patron from his thoughts. He began to clear the commander’s glasses and Lothar pulled out a bag of coins.

“No, Lothar, that’s alright. These are on the house tonight. You look like you needed them,” the bartender said, shaking his head at Lothar. He nodded thankfully, and stood to leave. Lothar opened the door, and started to head home. He turned to look to see if the Mage’s Tower was lit up.

_‘Forget it, why should I care?’_ He continued on home, knowing deep down he really did want to see that blasted spell-chucker’s light on.


	3. So Close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, #protectkhadgar2k16 doesn't apply to this piece ;(. But to be fair, neither does #protectlothar2k16. Enjoy the darkness!
> 
> Happy reading.

The walk to Goldshire was dark and quiet. Khadgar walked and walked, deciding not to port for some much needed fresh air. All he heard were a few owls whooing in the trees, and a single wolf howl, along with the sound of his feet on the well traveled dirt road. After walking awhile, he saw the lights of the inn in the distance.

‘ _Finally,’_ he thought to himself, ‘ _Can’t wait to try a new drink.’_

There was a foreign sound behind him. It was not one of the forest. It was footsteps. Quick steps. The hair on his neck stood up, as he quietly began to cast a spell in case of attack. The steps slowed behind him, but were much closer. He didn’t dare look to see what was behind him. What was probably following him. The steps again quickened. They were getting closer and closer every second. The lights of the inn were ever closer, if Khadgar could just make it there. He decided he should confront whatever was behind him. Spell readied, the mage began to turn around, when a large hand was clamped over his mouth, while another hand pulled him in and secured him in place. The spell in his hand died out.

“Well well, little mage, I don’t think you’ll be needing that, will you?” Khadgar’s eyes widened at the sight of his attacker’s hands. They were huge, meaty mitts enclosing the mage’s smaller frame. And they were…green.

An orc.

‘ _How did they speak the Human language?’_ Khadgar wondered, as he frantically tried to escape their grasp.

“Don’t try to struggle now, Gul’dan wants you in good enough shape,” the orcs said, tightening his clasp. Khadgar didn’t stop wriggling, and even attempted at a scream.

“So you want to do this the hard way, huh?” The hand covering Khadgar’s mouth came off, and reached for something in the larger being’s pocket.

“SHALA-,” Khadgar began, before his mouth was again covered, but with a damp wool cloth. Every muscle Khadgar had loosened up almost instantly. The lights of the inn swirled.

The mage began to get very sleepy, his eyes were hard to keep open.

‘ _I almost made it. I shouldn’t have gone for drinks….I shouldn’t…..have…..,”_ he thought, the world spinning around him. He felt his body go completely limp, and him being hoisted onto the orc’s broad shoulder.

Everything was black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to be ready to write this evening, so I'm firing off chapters left and right. Hope you like some late night fanfiction! What else is there to do? ;)


	4. Gut Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of slow chapter once again, but will pick up again soon! 
> 
> Happy reading!

Lothar awoke the next morning with a pain in his head and an odd feeling in his gut. He was used to the hangover headaches by now, but the feeling in his stomach was unusual. Almost like something wasn’t right. He rolled out of bed and went to get ready. While washing his face, he heard a knock on the door. Lothar quickly dried and went to open the door.

“Sorry to bother you, sir, but it appears you are needed in the barracks as soon as possible,” the royal courier said. Lothar sighed heavily. He knew another long day of work awaited him.

“Alright. Thank you for letting me know. I will meet there shortly,” Lothar answered, saying goodbye to the messenger. He finished getting ready and began the walk to the barracks. Absentmindedly, he looked over at the tall mage tower once again. It appeared to be empty. He stopped and watched for a bit. Something was off.

Suddenly, Lothar realized what was wrong. The shades weren't drawn. It was a habit of Khadgar's to always close them when getting home from a late night, even if he was very drunk. Khadgar didn't want a ton of light seeping in the next morning, so he would draw the shades. Lothar wondered if Khadgar had even gotten home last night. Lothar felt himself feel nervous for the mage, but remembered that he shouldn't care. 

' _He doesn't want me to treat him like a little kid, so I won't check on him. He can take care of himself, can't he?'_ Lothar continued on to the barracks, reminding himself that he should just worry about himself. He had a war to fight, didn't he?

 

* * *

 

The barracks were lively and busy with troops heading in and out on new assignments. Usually it was a few soldiers bustling here and there, but today, it was crowded. Lothar made his way through the endless sea of people, to the main command room. When he entered, Taria was having a discussion with her advisors.

“If we send out troops to the Swamp, then we can have a better chance of stopping another orc invasion of the cities surrounding our kingdom, Your Highness,” a high elf suggested, pointing to the map sprawled out on the table.

“Yes, but what difference will a small force make against most of the orcs camped there? I feel our troops will be wiped out within minutes of arriving there,” the Queen replied skeptically.

“I understand that, but if we send a few scouting parties, we can better figure out what we may be up against,” another advisor said. Lothar considered the arguments. He never liked losing men, but if they were going to be able to spy on their enemy, he was all for it. He liked knowing what he would be fighting against.

“Brother, what do you think we should do here? Its dangerous territory out in the Swamp of Sorrows. Scouting parties could get easily lost.” Taria looked at Lothar with nervous eyes. He knew it was hard to run a kingdom without her King by her side. He admired his sister’s resolve.

“Yes, scouts could easily get lost, but if they are led well, they could find their way and be useful.” Lothar knew he should lead a party through the Swamp.

“I hate to say this, but I think you will need to be leading a group,” Taria said, confirming Lothar’s thought.

“I thought the same thing. But don’t be afraid, sis. I know what I’m doing well enough,” Lothar assured her, a calm smile appearing on his lips. She nodded, a look of anxiety still on her face.

“I’ll get a party together this afternoon, and we will be off before sunset.” Lothar started for the door.

“Wait, Anduin.” Lothar turned around. He knew Taria was serious when she used his first name.

“Be careful, will you?” Taria asked.

“Always, Taria. I’ll be home soon,” Lothar answered, reassuring her. He left the room, and began recruiting some of the many troops in the crowded barracks.

 

* * *

 

The sound of the horses around him made Lothar sleepy. They had left on time, and the sun had set some time ago. He heard the sound of crickets in the distance, meaning they were close to the Swamp. Lothar saw a torch lit far away, and what looked to be a large bonfire. He decided they were close enough to a possible orc encampment, and told his party to pull off to the side. They set up camp in the hills overlooking the Swamp.

Lothar pitched his tent and got his bed roll ready. He double checked that there were guards surrounding the camp, watching out for any orcish ambushers. Confirming the site was safe, he crawled onto his roll and slowly went to sleep.

A muffled yell woke him up. Peeking out of the tent, he saw the bodies of the guards strewn about. Lothar heard swords being drawn as he stood up, reading his own blade.

A great yell sounded around him, and several orcs advanced through the hills. Lothar and what remained of his party charged them. He was able to cut a few of them down before realizing all of his men were fallen. He was suddenly surrounded by the orcs, but for some reason they weren’t attacking him. They muttered something in their native language, pointing at Lothar’s chest. He followed where they were looking and saw the commander’s seal of Stormwind. They figured out his high rank. He was too valuable to just slaughter like the rest of his men. Realizing he would likely become a captive, Lothar charged the orc nearest him, attempting to thrust his sword into the being’s heart. His arm was swatted away like a fly, and the orc picked him up by his throat with a giant green hand.

“I would have expected more from you, ‘commander’. It seems now we are both stronger _and_ smarter than you,” the orc said, grinning smugly. It caught Lothar off guard that the orc spoke to him in Human.

“How….can you….speak…,” Lothar sputtered, the orc’s hand gripped tightly around his neck. He clawed at the meaty clasp, kicking his legs in desperation.

“We picked up Human from our new comrade, the half-orc. You remember Garona, yes?” The orc laughed as Lothar struggled harder.

‘ _That blasted woman. I never should’ve trusted her,’_ Lothar thought, as black dots began to fill his vision.

“Don’t worry, little human. She’s safe. She’s one of us now. But the magic one, you’ll have to see for yourself,” the orc said, finally setting Lothar down.

‘ _Khadgar? Oh no. Dammit! I knew something was off,’_ Lothar thought frantically, as he coughed oxygen back into his lungs.

“Someone get something to bind him. I don’t want this one going far,” the orc told his companions. Soon enough, Lothar was hoisted up and a strong cloth was wrapped around his arms and hands, securing them tightly behind his back. Another cloth was tied around his mouth, gagging the commander.

The orc pushed him forward, to follow them back to camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one is safe. ;)


	5. Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picking up now. Try not to eat too much popcorn...

The orc camp was loud. Louder than any barracks Lothar had been too. All of the orcs were still awake and lively, even at the late hour. Most were crowded around large bonfires, drinking what Lothar assumed to be their type of alcohol. Others were dueling, likely drunkenly. When he and his orc captors walked through the camp, those near them turned and fell silent. There were a few murmurs and whispers here and there, but no loud talking remained. There was a small scream in the distance, almost human like, but Lothar told himself his ears were tricking him. When he looked around, he saw that many of them were slyly smiling, proud of the catch, or glaring furiously at Lothar. He wondered how many of their members he had killed. When Lothar passed the majority of the orcs, they went back to their activities, and the volume again was louder than ever. But somehow Lothar heard it again. That same scream, this time loud enough to be heard over the orcs. It was a man’s scream. They neared a tent larger than the others surrounding it. Another shriek sounded through Lothar’s ears, closer this time, as if it were coming from the tent.

‘ _This isn’t good,’_ Lothar thought, ‘ _That sounds too much like Khadgar when he practices his spells.’_

They had reached the tent, and as the orc opened the front flap, Lothar saw a dim light hanging low from the rafters. It lit up a chair with a limp body tied to it. Another two people loomed over the body. The figures turned around, one standing tall, one hunched over.

Gul’dan and Blackhand. Lothar’s muscles instantly flexed in a mixture of fear and hatred. He didn’t know much about Gul’dan but he knew enough about damn Blackhand. That orc had taken his son from him. Lothar struggled against his restraints, part of him wanting to go and rip the larger orc’s throat out, part of him wanting to run as fast as he could back to Stormwind. A strong grip held him back from either action. Gul’dan and Blackhand stepped away from the chair, leaving Lothar with a better view of the person seated.

As he had been promised when he was captured, and as he had feared.

The spell-chucker.

Khadgar’s head hung heavily, a tight cloth wrapped around his head, gagging him.. His body was limp, but Lothar could see his chest rising and falling ever so slightly, meaning he was still alive. He looked lucky to still be breathing.

From where he was, the commander could see half a bruised face, the other half hidden in the shadows. There were dark purple bruises around the mage’s neck, one too closely resembling hand mark. A choking mark.

Lothar’s insides burned.

‘ _What have they done to him? No..no..this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have let him go so easily. This is all my fault,”_ Lothar thought. His head was spinning. The image of Khadgar bounced around in his head.

Gul’dan began to cackle. He approached Lothar, hideous eyes locked on him the whole way.

“Garona was right, it seems. You two have something much better than a friendship. It would be a shame if something happened to your special _spell-chucker,_ ” Gul’dan said tauntingly. The use of that nickname crazed Lothar. No one called Khadgar that except for him. The half-orc must have overheard him use it one time.

Lothar growled angrily at the warlock. Gul’dan got even closer and whispered.

“You try anything fancy, or try to be the mage’s hero, I will kill him. It will be slow and painful, and I’ll make sure he knows it was you who did this to him. Understand?”

Lothar slowly nodded, glaring fiercely at the older orc.

“Good. Blackhand, we are finished for the night. Let us be off. Take him away, grunt,” Gul’dan instructed, starting to leave the tent.

“Oh, and commander, remember. This is not the time to be anyone’s savior. You can’t even protect yourself anymore, let alone the little mage,” Gul’dan said smugly over his shoulder.

Lothar was pulled back to the entrance of the tent. He shot one last look at Khadgar, hoping the spell-chucker would make it through the night. Lothar knew what ever would come next would change their lives forever, if they survived it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh. This can't (and definitely won't) be good for either of the beloved members of LionTrust! #notmybab


	6. Whatever Happens

Khadgar was woken up by a crisp slap to the face. Dazed, he opened his eyes and looked around. In front of his seat stood Blackhand, much larger than the other orcs he had seen. They locked eyes, the orc cackling as Khadgar’s cheeks blushed slightly with nervous heat. He hoped the orc wouldn’t be able to see the tears that were threatening to stream down his face. He dropped his head immediately, not wanting to be humiliated for crying.

“Oh, little mage, don’t be afraid! I’m not going to kill you. At least not until we’ve had our fun,” Blackhand sneered, kneeling down to be level with Khadgar. He untied Khadgar’s gag, and lifted his head with a single finger to make the mage look him in the eye.

“They’ll come for me, you know. And they’ll slaughter every last one of your blasted kind. Lothar himself will lead the attack,” Khadgar said, trying to be brave. His voice was weak and wavering only making Blackhand’s smile grow. There was a dark twinkle in the orc’s eye.

“I would love to see that day. But unfortunately that can’t happen. You can still say hello to Lothar though,” Blackhand replied, standing back up. Khadgar’s heart welled up in fear of what the orc meant. Blackhand left the tent, and returned seconds later, accompanied by two smaller orcs, who were struggling to drag something in.

 Khadgar’s gut wrenched as it happened.

They threw Lothar to the floor in front of him. The commander was tied and gagged, too tight for him to slip free. He scrambled on the floor, trying to sit up, before Blackhand commanded the smaller pair to help him kneel.

Lothar and Khadgar met each other’s eyes. Khadgar saw a mixture of fury and terror in Lothar’s ocean blues. In Khadgar’s brown eyes, Lothar saw only sadness. Almost like his spell-chucker had already given up.

Blackhand saw the exchange of looks, and stepped between the two.

“Well, Lothar, its very nice to see you again. Gul’dan made me promise to take good care of this one before you arrived, which you can see I have. And it would be a shame if you had another son taken from you. I mean, that’s basically what you two are, correct?” Blackhand asked, turning to Khadgar. He waited for a response, but Khadgar didn’t know what to say. The mage’s eyes fell to the side, cheeks burning more than ever.

“Oh! Well well, Lothar! This makes it more interesting. I guess that would explain the oddly shaped bruises I found behind his ears. Humans….I would have expected more from you, _commander,_ ” the orc said, smirking devilishly at the Lion.

Blackhand moved out of the middle, dismissing the smaller orcs.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some tools to retrieve,” he said, leaving the two captives in the room together.

Lothar looked longingly at Khadgar as the mage looked at the ground.

“What are they gonna do to us, Anduin?” Khadgar asked innocently, again meeting Lothar’s gaze.

Lothar sighed sadly, a gag still preventing him from comforting his spell-chucker.

“Whatever happens, I want you to know that this is in no way your fault. I want you to remember that, okay?” Khadgar said, a single tear finally falling down his red face.

Lothar nodded slowly, brow furrowed as he fought to keep his own tears down.

‘ _Whatever happens,”_ Lothar thought, Khadgar’s words echoing inside his head.

The commander tried to keep that in his mind as Blackhand returned, grinning proudly with a knapsack of tools slung over his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it begins.


	7. Mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to keep y'all waiting! Here's the much anticipated scene, one of possibly several like it. Try not to get too full on all the ice cream and popcorn, you may want a pretty empty stomach for Khadgar's chapter. Or maybe not. Haven't decided yet :) #protectkhadgar2k16??? 
> 
> Happy reading! (and suffering)

The two grunts followed Blackhand back in, carrying a large wooden table. They set it down, then grabbed Lothar and dragged him over to it.

“What are you doing to him? What is going on?” Khadgar demanded, pulling against the chair.

“I grow tired of your questions, mage. You will find out soon enough,” Blackhand replied, fashioning a new gag for Khadgar. The mage moved his head back and forth to prevent the orc from silencing him, only angering Blackhand more. The orc grabbed Khadgar’s face, stopping him from wriggling around further.

“Don’t make this difficult, Khadgar. You will only make things worse for your special friend,” Blackhand said, quickly tying the cloth around the mage’s mouth and head. Khadgar looked over at Lothar, who was now laid out on the table, pulling hard against the leather straps holding him there.

“Grunts, remove his tunic and take his gag out. I want all of the Swamp to hear him scream,” Blackhand commanded, laughing as he looked back at the mage. Khadgar sneered at him, trying to look as fierce as possible.

“Finally, let us get started. Grunts, you may go,” the orc said, going to search through his bag. He pulled out a crude dagger, the metal jagged and rough.

Blackhand strolled over to Lothar, twirling the blade in his giant hand.

His arm moved in a flash, jabbing the dagger deep into Lothar’s side.  
The commander yelped in surprise, trying his best to control his reaction.

Blackhand removed the blade ever so slowly, then again brought it down, this time in Lothar’s palm. Khadgar couldn’t watch. He shut his eyes closed tight as Lothar's yell echoed through the tent, the commander unable to hide his pain.

“Oh no, little mage, you need to watch. Or else I add a little something to the blade,” Blackhand said. Khadgar cautiously open his eyes as the orc was pulling a small vial of dangerously familiar green fluid. The fel.

The mage hurled profanities at the orc, quieted by the cloth in his mouth.

“What was that you said? You’re ready to watch again?” Blackhand asked, turning back to Lothar, who was gritting his teeth tightly.

The orc pulled the blade out of his palm, leaving a bloody mess on the commander’s hand. Blackhand carefully traced the dagger along Lothar’s already scarred body, choosing his next spot. He found a freshly healed wound on Lothar’s stomach, and grinned at the Lion.

“This reminds me of the battle in that canyon. Do you miss your son, Lothar?” Blackhand asked, mocking sincerity.

“You bastard! I will rip your heart from your che-,” Lothar growled, before the orc plunged the dagger into the wound.  Khadgar found himself with his eyes closed again, not daring to watch Lothar be in so much pain.

“Spell-chucker, open your damn eyes. Please, Khadgar, please,” Lothar pleaded, as Blackhand went to grab the vial. Khadgar looked at his love apologetically, tears beginning to flow down his face.

“Its a little too late for that, I’m afraid. Good luck with this addition,” the orc said, pouring a small amount on the metal.

He brought the fel-poisoned blade to Lothar.

“Don’t pass out too quickly, will you?” he asked, chuckling darkly as Lothar squirmed on the table. Blackhand quickly looked over Lothar’s half-naked body, and zoned in on the commander’s neck. He made a small, but deep nick on it, Lothar howling in pain at the action.

Khadgar began to sob loudly as the commander’s body jerked here and there against the power of the fel. Lothar felt it trying to take over, but fought It off as best he could.

The immense power coursed through his veins.

“ _You can have anything you want with this, Anduin,_ ” a voice beckoned, somewhere deep inside his mind. Lothar began to slip, letting the fel slowly corrupt him.

Then he heard Khadgar. The sound of his muffled cries jerked Lothar back to reality, expelling the fel with a silent, desperate prayer to the Light. The holy power expelled the evil, leaving his body relaxed, exhausted.

“What a shame. I was hoping you’d take the power in. Maybe even taken care of the mage yourself. No matter, his turn will come tomorrow. I will see you two then,” Blackhand said, leaving the tent.

Lothar waited several minutes to speak as his body adjusted to the pain.

“Khadgar…I’m going…to need you…to be strong….can you do that for me, spell-chucker?” Lothar asked, grimacing through the hurt.

Khadgar mumbled yes through his gag, tears still streaming down his face.

“Thank you….thank you….,” Lothar said weakly, slowing beginning to fall asleep. The commander finally passed out, leaving the mage a mess of sweat and tears, readying himself for his turn the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. Hope you liked! More to come soon.


	8. Echoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating! Finally had a chance to write and post tonight, so thank you for your patience. This one is about to get a little sad. So you may wanna have your Kleenex ready, because Khadgar is about to be crushed. Or not. You never know. All I know is #protectkhadgar2k16 no longer applies. There ya have it.
> 
> Happy reading!

If he was still awake or finally asleep, Khadgar didn’t know. He still felt the exhaustion of the day on his shoulders. He felt the salty lines on his cheeks where tears had fallen. He felt the strong ties still strapping him to the chair.

The mage lifted his head to take in his surroundings again, hoping, wishing, for anything to be different. He saw the small streaks of moonlights breaking through openings in the tent. He watched little specks of dust and earth dance in the light, floating from the shadows of the dark tent, into the opening.

Khadgar saw the faint outline of the table. Of the man, still asleep, who was strapped down to it. The tent was quiet, so was the surrounding camp. But the mage heard everything but silence.

The commander’s screams bounced through his head. Echoed in his mind. Khadgar couldn’t get the sounds out of his head. He shut his eyes, forcing tears away, denying any more emotion to come to him. He calmed himself down, breathing in as deeply as he could, out as slowly and relaxed as possible. In and out, in and out.

When Khadgar finally felt himself settle, he opened his eyes. Looking over to the table, he saw no body. It was simply empty. Khadgar blinked several times, not believing the sight his tired eyes were showing him.

The mage looked quickly around the tent again. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Where was Lothar? Was he dreaming?  
Khadgar turned to the left, his eyes meeting an all too familiar shape.

Lothar was standing quietly next to the mage, just looking at him. Khadgar gave him a questioning, almost alarmed glance, a nervous feeling building in his gut.

The commander smiled soothingly at the mage. His blue eyes were not dulled in the slightest by the dark tent. Bright as ever, they stared deep into Khadgar. The mage had not quite gotten used to those entrancing eyes, although he loved them nonetheless.

Lothar’s smile froze.

His body slackened only slightly.

His eyes slowly glazed over, looking at Khadgar, but not truly seeing.

The commander dropped to his knees, a dark mass of red forming in his shirt.

Khadgar was lost. He frantically fought against his restraints, pulling every way to get loose.   
The mass of crimson was growing slowly over Lothar’s shirt.

Khadgar then noticed a larger figure come from the shadows of the tent.

“You’re as worthless as I thought, mage,” Blackhand said, stepping closer, into the moonlight. He grabbed Khadgar’s shirt, and wiped the bloody end of a sword on the light linen fabric, leaving a large stain.

“I really thought you could save this helpless commander. Shame,” the orc continued, shaking his head at the mage. Khadgar continued to stare at Lothar, who was still kneeling. There was a long moment of silence, before, surprisingly, Lothar spoke.

“This is all your fault, kid,” the commander hissed, smile disappearing. A furious glare replaced it, angry blue eyes now digging into Khadgar’s own brown ones.

The mage’s heart welled up in sadness, unsure of what he just heard. He shook his head softly, tears again forming in his eyes.

“He’s right, mage. His blood is on your hands,” Blackhand said.

“Its your fault I’m dying, Khadgar. You’re just as stupid as I thought you were. The Kirin Tor must’ve not taught you enough. You were probably too idiotic to learn from them. What’s worse, you’re even unfit to be a soldier. Unfit for the physical tolls. For the training. I should've never trusted you! I’m dying because of you, Khadgar!” Lothar croaked out, crushing the mage’s soul with every word.

“ _This isn’t happening. No. No. Its not real. Lothar wouldn’t say that. Would he? Is that what he’s been thinking this whole time? Did he ever really love me?_ ” Khadgar asked himself. His thoughts were everywhere, questioning his worth, his love.

“You know we’re right, don’t you? You’ve always had a nagging feeling. That you’re never good enough. Well, the truth is, you never have been, Khadgar. Even the way you look. That pudge still left on your stomach. A man would have outgrown it by now. You’ll always just be a little kid. A child. A weak, worthless, child,” Blackhand chided, Khadgar’s heart breaking almost in two.

“ _They’re right. I am weak. No one would love me anyway. How could I have fooled myself for so long?”_ Khadgar wondered, his tears flowing freely down his dirty face.

Lothar began to scream. The same scream as before, one of agony and extreme pain. It echoed through the mage’s head, again and again.

Then there was a faint whisper. In the back of his mind. It was quiet, almost nonexistent.

“Don’t listen to them. Don’t listen, spell-chucker,” it whispered. It repeated the phrase over and over, and Khadgar felt something.

The mage exploded into consciousness, no longer seeing a dying Lothar in front of him, or Blackhand beside him. The tent was no longer dark, the camp no longer silent.

“DON’T LISTEN TO THEM! KHADGAR! DON’T!” Lothar yelled. Khadgar looked around. It was the afternoon again, and the camp surrounding the tent was alive with orc soldiers. The mage turned his head back to the table. There was Lothar, struggling fiercely against the straps, lifting his head to look at Khadgar.

In front of him, the mage found Gul’dan, leaning on his staff, just watching Khadgar.

“What a pity, Blackhand. We nearly had him broken in the dream. Clever idea though,” the warlock said, nodding to Blackhand, who was looming near the table.

“Thank you. I trust you want them ready for transport soon, yes?” Blackhand asked.

“Yes. The queen is fairly desperate. She needs her brother and Guardian back, doesn’t she?” Gul’dan replied, smiling darkly at Khadgar.

“She sure does. Taria doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into. Ignorant bitch,” Blackhand said, anticipating Lothar’s reaction. The commander kicked and squirmed at the larger orc, who only chuckled at the sight.

“Don’t you dare talk to my sister that way, filthy orc!” Lothar’s face was red with rage, only egging Blackhand on further.

“Careful, commander. Maybe we’ll leave one of you here, for her and her troops to find, impaled on a spike. And I’m betting you wouldn’t want it to be your oh so sweet mage, would you?” Blackhand asked, voice low and sickly sweet. He walked over to Khadgar, and gently caressed his face. He then looked back over at the commander, a devilish thought coming to mind.

“I can see what you like about him, commander. So sweet. Innocent. In need of a protector perhaps?” Lothar didn’t like where this was going.

“I can assure you that I, and many other troops here, could take _very_ good care of him,” Blackhand finished, wiping a single tear from the mage’s plump cheek.

Lothar’s body tensed, feeling sick at the thought of what they might do further to Khadgar. Lothar began to speak, but held his tongue for the mage’s sake.

“That’s what I thought. Have a good rest of your afternoon, commander,” Blackhand said tauntingly. He and Gul’dan left once more.  Lothar laid there a minute, finally looking over to Khadgar.

The spell-chucker stared straight ahead, no doubt still thinking about the dreams Gul’dan had enforced on him. They had taken some of the mage’s worst fear and put them into one nightmare. Lothar couldn’t even imagine what he was feeling.

“Spell-chucker? If you’re listening, I want you to remember that none of that was true. What ever went on. It was all just a bad dream, okay? I…I still love you. I always will, spell-chucker,” Lothar assured him. Khadgar continued to stare, not even flinching at Lothar’s proclamation of love.

They sat in silence for the remainder of the afternoon, Khadgar trying to replace the screams in his head with ones of reassurance and love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm adding a little Taria to the mix. Don't quite know where this is going. Oh well.  
> Thank you for your endless love and feedback! Keep up the comments because they truly make my day and I love hearing what you all think, regardless of if it is good or bad. And feel free to leave prompts or whatever. I feel like gifting someone something, so let me know if you want me to write something for you! :)


	9. Slip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for delay!
> 
> Happy reading!

The tent was quiet the remainder of the day, until Blackhand stormed in in the early evening, clearly frustrated about something. He was flanked by several orcish troops, who eagerly awaited his orders.

“Untie them, now! Quickly!” Blackhand barked. The grunts flinched at the sharpness in his voice, but quickly went to work on releasing the pair of humans.

Lothar heard a distant war cry as the orcs took him off the table. Had his sister finally come for them?

“What’s the matter, Blackhand? Is Taria finally catching up to you?” Lothar pried as the orc tied a roped around his hands.

“She’ll have to be quicker than that to save you two, commander,” Blackhand answered calmly, finishing the tight knot around Lothar’s wrists.

The commander looked over to Khadgar, who was now more alert and back in his right mind. The orcs fashioned a knot around the mage’s wrists as well, and led him over to Blackhand.

Khadgar made eye contact with Lothar.

His eyes still held fear in them, but no tears threatened their ways out of the brown orbs. Lothar gave the smallest, reassuring nod, hoping to lend some of his bravery to the mage.

Khadgar straightened up a bit at the gesture, his confidence higher as he turned back to face Blackhand.

“I hope you’re doing better today, little mage. I see you’ve calmed down a bit since this afternoon,” Blackhand chided, looking down at the smaller man.

“I have, Blackhand. I’m cool as a cucumber,” the mage replied quietly, not breaking eye contact.

“It seems the kid has found his voice! Which reminds me, I can’t have you using your magic when we’re changing camps…Get him another gag,” Blackhand ordered. Khadgar glared as more cloth filled his mouth, even though he knew he would be too weak to channel the arcane.

“Well now that that’s all settled, we need to be moving. Move out!” the orc exclaimed. The grunts each grabbed one of Khadgar’s and Lothar’s arms, pulling them sharply out of the tent.

Lothar loved what he saw.

Tents all around the camp were burning. Orcish soldiers were running here and there, in complete chaos. The sounds of humans battling orcs surrounded the commander and the mage. Through the smoke, Lothar saw a small band of archers sitting on the hill. One of them signaled to fire, and before the orcs could react, arrows pierced their throats.

The commander quickly squirmed from the dying grunts grasp, as Khadgar did the same. They locked eyes for the briefest of moments, but knew what they had to do.

“Run!” Lothar yelled at the mage, who bolted to the left. The commander ran straight ahead, towards the archers and presumably an Alliance camp, barely escaping Blackhand’s huge mitt grasping at his tunic.

Meanwhile, Khadgar made his way towards the trees. He was no soldier, both he and Blackhand knew it. He couldn’t run as fast and as long as Lothar, so the orc had started to come after the mage after failing to grab at the commander. Khadgar darted between the trees, the orc’s large figure slowly starting to become smaller as he went deeper into the rainforest. He quickly changed course, turning to the right, towards where he thought he saw Lothar run. Khadgar ran and ran, the trees starting to empty out, into a large clearing of swamp. He told himself to keep sprinting, just to keep going. He saw the smoke rising from an Alliance camp’s bonfire. He was so close, he could taste it.

The mage gave up hope when he felt himself step on something other than the marshy land, heard crude metal clink, and his ankle snap. Khadgar fell down to the ground, hard, sure that he had a broken bone. He had stepped into a basilisk trap.

He cried out in pain, the sounds muffled by his gag, unable to free his foot from the trap, as his hands were still tied. He knew if he could yell out for help, Blackhand would surely find him in the shallow water before any Alliance soldier could, or slaughter any that even tried to rescue him. So Khadgar laid there, anxiously awaiting his fate, as he heard something trudging through the marsh surrounding him. He prayed to the Light that it would be Lothar. Or any other friendly soldier. Just not Blackhand. He sank low into the puddle surrounding him, hoping to stay as still and silent as possible. The water splashed very quietly as he moved, and Khadgar hoped if it was Blackhand coming, the orc hadn’t heard it.

He was dead wrong.

There was a short silence before Khadgar heard heavy steps coming his way. Far too heavy for a human’s.

They stopped right next to the mage, and a deadly chuckle arose from the walker.

“Poor little mage…it seems I have said that far too often lately,” Blackhand laughed, watching as Khadgar squirmed on the ground, trying to crawl away from him.

“I wish I had caught you both, but the chase was far more fun than just having you two lying around. So I guess you’ll do, spell-chucker,” Blackhand said, hoisting the mage up and holding him in the air by his throat. Khadgar didn’t like remembering the first time Blackhand had done this to him, and stuggled harder than ever for air, trying to ignore the pain in his ankle. The trap was still latched to his foot, dangling over the water.

Khadgar saw Blackhand look towards the Alliance camp, an idea filling the orc’s mind.

“I figured you would run to him, mage. Always tagging along, like a little wolf pup. Let’s make sure he knows we’re here, yes?” Blackhand inquired, nodding to Khadgar.

With his free hand, he took Khadgar’s gag out, freeing to mage up to yell for help.

“Lothar! Loth-,” he tried to choke out, before Blackhand slammed him on the ground.

“Now, now, Khadgar. Since you got so close to escaping, I can’t have you doing the same thing again, understand?” Blackhand picked up a large rock from nearby, and brought it down hard onto Khadgar’s good leg, effectively shattering it.

Khadgar screamed, louder and harder than ever before, nearly passing out. It echoed through the swamp, loud enough for the members of the nearby Alliance camp to hear, including Lothar. The soldiers instantly perked up, but none were quicker than the commander himself. Lothar turned towards the source of the scream, fearing the worst. His spell-chucker.

“Lothar! I know you’re near,” Blackhand yelled, picking the mage up by his neck again. The Lion ran to the swamp clearing. He couldn’t believe his eyes. There was the orc, holding his mage like a hunter would a prized kill. Khadgar’s leg hung limply, with a trap clamped to his other ankle.

“Commander, it appears you forgot something. He was quick, I’ll give him that,” Blackhand continued, slowly closing his fist tighter.

Lothar didn’t know what to say. He heard stampeding steps getting closer, meaning he and his soldiers would need to retreat quickly, as orcs were coming to attack.

 _‘I can’t just leave him…Blackhand will…he’ll kill him..,’_ Lothar thought, frozen.

“Make a decision, Lothar! Your spell-chucker’s life hangs in the balance,” the orc taunted, as the mage began seeing black spots. Lothar looked at Blackhand, then to Khadgar. The bookworm looked at him longingly, his struggling getting weaker and weaker. Khadgar knew that the commander would die if he tried to save him, so he knew what he had to do. Shaking his head as much as he could, Khadgar signaled for Lothar to retreat while he still could. The rest of Blackhand’s forces were closing in on them quickly.

Lothar gave Khadgar a pained look, not wanting to abandon the mage. He wanted to stay and kill every last one of Blackhand’s orcs, but his body went into autopilot, carrying him away from the mage. The rest of his soldiers followed, retreating quickly up a hill out of the swamp, back towards Stormwind. When Lothar reached the top of the hill, he looked back once more.

Blackhand hoisted a now unconscious Khadgar up into the air, showing him off to the orcs surrounding the warlord. A loud cheer sounded, the orcs celebrating as Lothar turned away, an immense feeling of guilt filling his stomach.

He immediately regretted leaving Khadgar, even though he knew it was his only option.

He longed to go back to the night that they got in an argument, the night in his room. He wanted so badly to apologize to Khadgar for his harsh words, for attacking him like that. Lothar wanted to look in those brown eyes and no longer see fear or hurt. He was so tired of seeing the mage broken. The commander vowed that he would do anything to get the mage back as soon as he could, and cut down any who stood in his way. The mage’s words repeated in his head.

‘ _Whatever happens,’_ Lothar thought, ‘ _Whatever happens.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still taking requests for prompts you want made as gifts, so leave your ideas in the comments below. It may take me some time to get to them, but they will get done, I assure you.  
> Thanks so much for your thoughts!


	10. Friends in Low Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have requested a prompt, I'll try to get on those soon! Sorry for how long it has been taking, but you'll get your gifts I promise! :)
> 
> Also, this chapter won't be as bad as some of the ones coming up. It should get kind of dark, nothing too bad, but I you may wanna tread carefully. There will be no non-con, that's for sure. The story is about to get more gloomy; brace yourselves.
> 
> #protectkhadgar2k16
> 
> Happy reading!

When he made it back to Stormwind, Lothar went straight for the keep to see his sister. He did not find her in the throne room, so he made his way to one of the command rooms, where the doors were closed. The commander did not have a care that a meeting was in session, or that nearly every person in the Keep had given him strange looks. Lothar was bruised and bloody, wearing an extra shirt that was provided by one of the soldiers that had helped him make his way out of the Swamp. The shirt was too small, not covering the newly opened scar on his chest, which was severely bruised. Lothar barged into the room, causing everyone to turn and look.

Taria’s eyes welled up at the sight of her brother.

She ran over to him, wrapping him in a tight hug, tears streaming down her face while the members of the meeting looked on in shock.

“Anduin…I’m so glad you’re back,” she cried, hiding her face in his chest. He hugged her back painfully, the cut on his chest making him wince in pain. Taria felt this, and released him, looking him up and down. Her eyes widened at the sight of what he had become.

“What in the Light’s name happened?” she asked, gently lifting up his shirt slightly to see the injury.

“My scouting party was overrun by orcs, and they took me as prisoner. I’m fine now, though,” Lothar assured her, holding up a palm to her. Taria looked at his hand, which was covered in dirt and caked on blood. She instantly grabbed at his hand, examining it further.

“What happened to your hand, Anduin? You need to see a healer! Guards, quickly, summon a priest for my brother,” she ordered.

“Taria, I don’t need that right now, I’m fine. There is more I need to tell you,” Lothar said urgently, pulling his hand away.

“No, I insist you get the proper care you need for your condition. Council, you may continue our discussion without me for the time being. Come on, let’s get you patched up,” Taria continued, motioning for him to follow her out of the room, into the hall.

“Taria! Listen to me! They still have him! Blackhand and Gul’dan….they caught him when we were escaping. And I couldn’t go back for him…Taria, they have Khadgar,” Lothar exclaimed, impatient with his sister.

The Queen quickly stopped trying to help her brother, bringing her hands to her mouth in surprise.

“Oh, Anduin….I’m so sorry…I wish…I wish there was something we could do as of right now. But I can't...I won’t let you do anything until you have fully healed. Let’s go. You need to rest,” she insisted, pulling him down the hallway towards his room. Lothar reluctantly followed her, and collapsed on his bed as soon as he reached it.

Taria watched as her brother broke down into a rare fit of tears, crying softly into the pillows. He turned over slightly, and looked at her with red eyes.

“I just left him there, sis, I…I got us into that mess and left him to die for it,” Lothar croaked out, turning back to the pillows.

The Queen rubbed his back softly as he sobbed.

“Anduin, it’ll be alright…you’ll see him again, I promise,” she said, soothing her brother.

 _‘I hope so…I hope so,’_ Lothar thought to himself, as he slowly drifted off into sleep.

* * *

 

Khadgar came to on his knees and chained to a stone wall. His ankle throbbed painfully, and looked down to see his broken leg had been placed in a crude splint.

The mage looked around the room, taking in his new surroundings. He was no longer in a flimsy tent, now in a sturdy building. It was hot and humid inside, and there was bright sunlight breaking in through the wooden door, making Khadgar believe it was the afternoon. He wondered how long he had been unconscious for.

The sunlight in the room began to darken as a figure approached the door. Khadgar closed his eyes and flinched as someone opened the door and walked over to him. He kept his eyes closed, knowing that Blackhand was already ready to hurt him again. The mage opened his eyes slowly, but he did not see a big, lumbering man before him.

Garona gave him a soft smile, pity etched on her face. The half-orc looked towards the door, making sure no one was on their way in, before she spoke.

“Khadgar…I’m so sorry. Are you doing okay?” she asked, cupping the mage’s dirt-caked face. He waited a short moment before speaking, trying to figure out if she was faking sincerity.

“I’ve…been better. What are you doing here? Where even are we?” Khadgar asked, looking around again.

“We’re at Stonard. Still in the Swamp. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you at the other camp. I could’ve helped you and Lothar, but Blackhand was too suspicious of me. He doesn’t even know I’m in here now, so I’ll need to be leaving soon. I’m going to get you out of here, okay? I owe Lothar and you that much,” Garona answered. Khadgar nodded solemly.

“Do you have any idea what they’re going to do to me now?” he asked, feeling it was something he had asked too many times recently.

“Blackhand invited me to a meeting with him and Gul’dan the other day…they were talking about what to do, and were talking about…just..killing you. About how defenseless Azeroth would be without its Guardian. I urged them to reconsider, to do some other method. I..I had to suggest something else. I had to get them to believe me. They’re….they’re going to try to corrupt your mind, Khadgar. Make you think everything you know is different. I convinced them that having someone as powerful as you actually on their side would be better than another dead body,” Garona replied, dropping her gaze sadly. Khadgar was stunned. His stomach dropped, realizing what this meant.

“They’re going to try to _brainwash_ me?” he asked, the half-orc nodding slowly in clarification. The mage began to breathe heavily, suddenly freaking out.

The pair heard steps approaching the door, the half-orc quickly standing up, mouthing a silent apology to Khadgar.

“Garona…what are you doing in here?” Gul’dan asked, entering the room, followed by Blackhand.

“The mage was trying to get me to help him, so I had to remind him who I am allied with now,” she replied cooly, giving a false glare to Khadgar.

“Well, Blackhand and I have some work to do. We would prefer some privacy,” Gul’dan said, signaling towards the door.

“Yes, of course. Good luck,” Garona answered, more to the mage than the warlock. As she reached the door, the half-orc turned and looked at Khadgar again, giving him a small nod of encouragement as he started to steel his mind, knowing what was coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned!


	11. Turning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this was kind of painful to write. More dark content to come soon.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry I forgot to mention this in the earlier chapter, but I wanted to give a quick shoutout to MirandaRoseofSkywall! Thanks for helping me choose what path to take this story on, it means a lot!
> 
> Don't fill up too much on your popcorn or ice cream, cuz its about to get even better than this scene. Be prepared, this one is a little more intense than the usual, and some of the following chapters will be too.
> 
> Happy reading!

Khadgar’s head pounded. He had never felt a pain like it before. The arcane magic he had practiced and perfected over the years had given him minor headaches before, but nothing like this. It felt as if his head were splitting in two.

Gul’dan cast a spell, ripping Khadgar’s thoughts to stay calm from his mind, forcing the mage to only think about the pain in his head.

“It hurts, I know. This isn’t your fault, Khadgar,” Gul’dan said, his voice trying to be soothing. The mage tried to fight the spell, not giving in to the discomfort just yet. Khadgar knew that if he showed any weakness, the warlock’s spell could very well break his mind. Make him into something he never knew he could become, and think things he knew would never be true. Khadgar forced his thoughts to turn to steel, to block Gul’dan out.

“I know its not, Gul’dan. This is your doing, villain,” the mage said, putting his remaining strength into the reply. He felt the spell stop, and his head relaxed for a moment while the warlock spoke.

“You’ll see soon enough, Khadgar. I am no villain. I am not your enemy, mage. Anduin Lothar is. Remember how he left you for dead?” The warlock said, the last part with false pity in his voice, forcing Khadgar to think back to his recapture. He felt a pang of sadness in his heart, his thoughts softening as his mind filled with images of Lothar.

It was too late that Khadgar realized his mistake. He had let himself become weak.

Gul’dan’s spell again invaded his defenseless mind. It was more powerful this time, causing the mage to reel in pain. His whole body tensed. His skull felt as if it would soon burst, the magic putting so much pressure on his temples.

“Do you see now, little mage? He makes you weak! He is a devious enemy. Lothar causes you to let your guard down. Only to sneak in for the deadly strike,” Gul’dan persuaded, increasing the spell’s power.

 _‘No, don’t listen to him. You now what’s true. Lothar is not the enemy. Gul’dan is. Lothar would never hurt you. He would never leave you…would he?’_ Khadgar thought over the pain. Sweat began to bead at his forehead, the pain in his thoughts spreading to his whole body.

“That’s it, Khadgar. Lothar did leave you. He is a coward! He abandoned you easily! Did the commander even try to come back for you?” the warlock asked. Khadgar shut his eyes so tightly, trying to fight the pain.

“No! No! I told him he should go! I let him leave!” Khadgar shouted, slowly resisting Gul’dan’s spell.

“If he was your friend, let alone your _true love_ , he would’ve fought his way back to you! Like a trained soldier!” The warlock empowered the spell again, shattering the mage’s resistance.

“No! He would’ve died coming back for me! It wasn’t worth it!” Khadgar yelled back, tears beginning to squeeze their way through his closed eyes.

The mage then realized what he had just said.

 _‘No, I told him to go….but I…I would’ve gone back to him, regardless of what he told me to do. I know I would have died for Anduin. Why would he not do the same for me?’_ he thought, his mind slowly giving in.

“You’re right, Khadgar. He clearly does not value you as much as you do him. He would care more for a lowly recruit than for you. You even said it yourself! Mage! Lothar is the enemy!” Gul’dan persisted, not letting up.

Khadgar felt himself fighting his own thoughts.

 _‘No, don’t believe this! Gul’dan’s tricking you! You need to fight back! For Anduin! For Azeroth!’_ a small voice urged, building up the mage’s fight.

“Do you not hear yourself? Even the voices inside your head put the commander before you. Has he ever cared for you like that?” Gul’dan questioned.

Sweat began pouring down the mage’s face as he fought between himself and Gul’dan.

“He has caused too much pain in your life, Khadgar. He helped slay Medivh, your greatest teacher. He humiliated you in front of all of those troops, back in Elwynn. You were stronger without him in your life. Why not eliminate him again?” Gul’dan suggested, dark thoughts of a dead Lothar filling the mage’s mind.

“How did you know about Elwynn?” Khadgar asked weakly, barely holding on to his own thoughts.

“You think a lot when you’re asleep, mage. So easy to read,” the warlock replied.

“If you can read those thoughts, then you would know that Anduin is in love with me. And he would do anything for me. He’ll come after you, Gul’dan, no matter what it takes,” Khadgar finished, some of his confidence returning.

“Oh, but little mage, you won’t be worth coming back for if you’re no longer in love with him. Why would he want someone who hates him so much?” Gul’dan asked, confusing Khadgar.

“I don’t hate him! I will always love him…no matter what,” Khadgar said, voice almost at a whisper. The warlock paused the spell, Khadgar’s body relaxing instantly, exhausted. Gul’dan came close to the mage’s ear.

“You will despise him soon enough,” he whispered.

With one final, powerful push, Gul’dan attacked the mage’s mind.

Khadgar felt like his head nearly tore in two, crying out in anguish. His thoughts were all over the place. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t get himself to focus. More importantly, he couldn’t determine the right from the wrong. The only reoccurring thought he had was of the commander. Nothing but hatred filled his mind and his heart.

 _‘He did this to me…this is his fault!’_ Khadgar thought, brewing with confusion.

“LOTHAR!” he yelled.

It was no longer a cry for help.

It was a vow of revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #protectkhadgar2k16 #dontknowifIshouldtagthisasCorrupt!Khadgarlol  
> #we'llseehowLionTrustcopeswiththisstaytunedloveyall


	12. Discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set one week in the future. I'm sorry, it seems lazy, but I wanted to save the audience from boring recovery stories from Lothar, and I felt I had gotten the idea of brainwashing Khadgar across in the previous chapter. The week that had passed is assumed to have been filled with further torture of the mage's mind, okay? So Khadgar is now even more far gone than he was at the end of Chapter 11. Sorry for any inconveniences! 
> 
> Happy reading!

**_ONE WEEK LATER_ **

****

Lothar was glad to be walking around normally again, without his sister constantly watching to make sure he wouldn’t topple over. When he came back to Stormwind, he didn’t even have a problem walking, but as his other injuries were examined and taken care of, his sister began to think of him as a wounded child rather than a grown man. Like he hadn’t dealt with stuff like that before.

But as his body healed, his mind was stuck on the mage. Lothar was overrun with guilt and fear, wanting so badly to have gone back for the mage. He repeated to himself that it was what Khadgar had wanted, that the mage wanted him to escape. But some feeling in his gut told him he shouldn’t have left him so easily. Lothar had convinced his sister to let him assemble a force large enough to drive the orcs out of the Swamp, and more importantly, save Khadgar, but she would not let him go until she figured he was fully healed and ready to go. There was still some pain in his stomach from his scar that had been stabbed, but the commander knew that if he showed even the slightest bit of pain, Taria would not let him out of her sight. Lothar had been planning to have a team ready by the next night, and now all he had to do was plead to the Queen that the time to strike was close.

It was in the throne room that Lothar realized he would need to go even sooner.

He was speaking with Taria and a few of her advisors when they broke eye contact with him, their gazes moving to something behind the commander. Lothar slowly turned around, and saw a large pillar of green smoke, swirling around, before coming to the shape of a crippled orc.

“Hello, Lothar. I’m glad to see you’ve recovered so quickly,” Gul’dan said, smiling darkly. Lothar reached out to grab at the warlock, but his hand moved through the orc as if he were nothing.

“I’m sorry, commander, I’m not really there in the Keep. But I see you as you see me. Hello there, Taria,” the orc purred, looking behind Lothar. The Queen straightened up, meeting his look with a glare. The commander stepped between Gul’dan and his sister before speaking.

“What is it you want, Gul’dan?” Lothar practically spat out the words, filled with so much disgust towards the orc.

The warlock chuckled.

“You are taking too long to act, commander,” Gul’dan answered, his hand beckoning to something next to him. The green smoke grew, and in the Keep appeared Blackhand, a strong hand gripped around Khadgar’s arm.

Lothar gaped at the mage.

He looked stronger than even a week ago, and looked as if he had recovered even better than before. There was no doubt in Lothar’s mind that he could have used his magic by now, that he could’ve wiped the pair of orcs out and made his escape, but for some reason the mage looked calm. Almost comfortable. Something was off. He didn’t even struggle when Blackhand pulled him nearer to Gul’dan.

But what bothered Lothar the most was what Khadgar did when their eyes met.

His body tensed up dramatically, muscles flexed in the small tunic he was wearing. His pupils dilated, his brow furrowing sharply, forming a fierce glare at the commander, one Lothar had never seen before. The mage then went to grab at Lothar, causing him to flinch slightly and step backwards from the smoke as Khadgar was yanked back by Blackhand.

“What did you do to him?” Lothar asked, glaring again at Gul’dan. Blackhand began to carry a screaming and struggling Khadgar away, who wouldn’t take his eyes off of the commander as he kicked and thrashed, baring his teeth like an animal.

“You see, when you left him here, I had to make a choice. Kill the Guardian, or use his immense power against his own home. It really was interesting to see how much rage that small Guardian had in him over the past week. But to make him useful, we had to channel that anger against something. You were the perfect candidate, commander. He really hates you now,” the warlock said, laughing slightly.

Lothar’s heart sank. They had somehow managed to turn Khadgar into….whatever that was in the smoke. That was not his spell-chucker. Gul’dan would pay for this.

“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you for this!” Lothar shouted, hearing a small gasp from his sister.

“Now, now, Lothar. You will try. I know I will already be gone from this camp, but Blackhand has been eagerly awaiting a good battle with you. That is, if the mage doesn’t burn you alive first. Good luck, commander. We’ll be waiting,” Gul’dan finished, before the smoke swirled again and his form disappeared.

Lothar put his head in his hands, running his fingers through his long hair.

“Taria, I need to go. We need to take troops out there by tomorrow morning, at the latest. You know I have to go,” he pleaded, turning back to the Queen.

“I’m sorry Anduin. I can’t let you go. You’re not fully recovered! I won’t let you,” she answered, shaking her head sadly.

“Taria! Sis! Please! I’ve dealt with way worse, and you know that! Let me go!” Lothar exclaimed, raising his hands up in desperation.

“ANDUIN! No!” Taria yelled back, before bursting into tears. Lothar was surprised, he had never heard her raise her voice like that before.

“I’m sorry, brother. I…the last time you left, you didn’t come back quick enough. And when a soldier came back saying there was an abandoned camp in the Swamp…one with YOUR horse! I….Anduin, I thought you were dead! I can’t have that feeling again, I just can’t do it,” the Queen finally said, drying her eyes. Lothar looked at her sadly, trying to think of what to say.

“Sis..I’m so sorry that I wasn’t more careful. That whole trip was a mistake. I know you don’t want me to leave again, but its time. I’m fine, I can manage myself, but more importantly, I’m ready to lead troops again. We need to save Khadgar, regardless of who he is siding with now. I need him back, sis. I need him,” Anduin pleaded, a single tear falling down his face.

She looked at him with pity, deciding on what to do.

“I…I guess you’re right. Go. Take a larger group this time. But leave tonight, and you’ll get there by late morning. Stay safe, brother,” Taria finally said, causing Lothar to sigh in relief. He went up to her and hugged her, before turning to leave. Just as he reached the door, she called out to him.

“Anduin?” she asked, causing him to look back to her.

He nodded for her to continue.

“Burn Stonard to the ground,” she finished, earning a small, but proud smile from her brother.

Lothar left the Keep, and set out with his large force towards the Swamp. Towards his spell-chucker.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will probably be one of my favorite ones to share with you all! Stay tuned.
> 
> Also, the green smoke I mentioned, I meant to be used as a vision of Gul'dan and Lothar. Almost like they were skyping or whatever. Sorry if that wasn't clear.
> 
> Continue to leave your thoughts below, I love hearing what you think and how you take my writing! Thanks for all the kind words!
> 
> Feel free to leave requests for gifts below, or even give me a follow on Tumblr. username is bearlynerdy, but my blog name or whatever should be Scoobee the Explorer. I'm not very good at using it just yet ;)
> 
> Thanks again!


	13. The Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! One of my favorite chapters right here. Sorry if there is any confusion on directions or what's going on, I tried to make the events simultaneous and understand it could've gotten confusing. 
> 
> Also, this may be one of the last chapters to this fic! I know I know I can't believe its already ending either, but I'm so glad you've enjoyed it as much as I've loved writing it. There will probably be 2-3 more chapters, maybe more, but it will be ending soon. BUT that doesn't mean there won't be intense stuff in the next couple of entries!!! >:) #protectlothar?? #lolkhadgarisallscarynow #oopssorrybab
> 
> As always, thank you for your support.
> 
> Happy reading!

From the high hills that the commander and his force were stationed in, Lothar could see the fortress that was Stonard. It was nothing extravagant, but the stone walls and pikes surrounding it would hold strong during a fight. The fort was roughly the size of Darkshire, in Duskwood, which also meant several orcs would be stationed there. Lothar was one of the most experienced soldiers in the Alliance army, but knew this fight would be different. Not only would Blackhand be waiting for him and his troops, but the commander would have to deal with Khadgar.

His gut wrenched at the thought of having to fight the spell-chucker. Lothar promised himself that he would first try to snap Khadgar out of it, rather than go straight for self-defense. The main goal was to rescue Khadgar, regardless of his loyalties, not kill the mage at the first sign of hostility.

Lothar knew it would be a big job, but he was prepared nonetheless.

The commander looked to his left and right, seeing brave and prepared lieutenants on their steeds next to him, observing the fort. Lothar turned his horse around. Behind him was a force of 2,500 strong. Stonard was not large, but the orcs were more dangerous than other enemies. The soldiers he faced looked to their leader with nervous energy, anxious to charge. Lothar inhaled sharply, and exhaled before giving his order.

“Charge!” he yelled, quickly turning his horse once again, and leading the squadron down the hills.

They reached the walls of Stonard quickly, some orcish arrows flying here and there, but none landing too dangerously. A horn sounded from within the fort.

_‘Its go time,’_ Lothar thought, readying his sword. He rode through the battle, slashing down orcs left and right, none able to reach close enough to threaten him. The commander made his way through the gates, following troops that had pushed through the barrier.

Suddenly, an arrow whizzed past his leg, connecting with his horse’s body. It stumbled and rolled forwards, throwing Lothar from the saddle.

An orc charged the commander, who managed to roll away from a stabbing sword, and drove his own weapon through the attacker’s heart.

Lothar quickly stood up, drawing his sword from the dead orc, and shaking the daze from his head.

Opening his eyes, he saw a deathly familiar body standing about ten yards in front of him.

Alliance troops’ bodies were scattered here and there in front of Blackhand, who cracked his huge neck as he saw Lothar.

The commander pushed his hair of his face and took a deep breath as the orc spoke.

“Glad you could make it back, Lothar. Now I have the honor of killing you,” he said, readying his grip on his bloodied axe.

“Not today, Blackhand. I’m here for the mage. But since you’re here, I figured killing you would be a bonus,” Lothar replied, as the two started to circle each other.

“You will die trying!” the orc yelled, charging Lothar. The human swiftly sidestepped Blackhand’s attack, quickly turning around to face him again. The orc came at him again, forcing the commander to block his axe. Blackhand was much stronger than Lothar, the block causing the human to stumble sideways. The orc swung his axe again, the commander diving blindly forwards, in between his legs. Lothar somersaulted, coming back to his feet as Blackhand angrily turned around. Knowing the orc was getting anxious to land a blow, Lothar readied himself for Blackhand’s next move.

The orc brought his axe down wildly.

Instead of blocking it, the commander swung his sword up.

Everything slowed down as the sword cut through flesh and bone, and the orc’s hand landed with a thud below him. Blackhand’s axe had managed to cut Lothar slightly, but nothing to what the commander was able to do.

The orc bellowed in pain, closing his eyes as he held his now much shorter arm. Lothar took the opportunity, and charged Blackhand.

As the warlord opened his eyes, the commander’s sword pierced his chest. Blackhand fell as Lothar withdrew his weapon, and laid face down in a growing pool of blood.

Lothar flipped the dying orc onto his back, and kneeled down close.

“It was an honor knowing you, Blackhand, but I’ve got a mage to save,” he whispered as the orc gasped for air.

“He’ll…kill…you…. _commander_ ,” Blackhand choked out, smiling with a mouth full of blood.

“We’ll see about that,” Lothar replied, before stabbing the orc through the heart. Blackhand lurched, blinking slowly. He cackled weakly at Lothar, before his eyes glazed over, to see no more.

 

**MEANWHILE**

The sound of the battle horn nearby made Garona spring into action. The half-orc had been planning on helping Khadgar escape for the past week, and the time was now.

She ran from the forge she was working at, into the building where Khadgar was being held. There she found the mage, still chained up to the wall, even though he was apparently one of Gul’dan’s pawns now. He was unconscious yet again, presumably from his most recent beating the night before, after losing his cool when he saw the vision of Lothar.

Garona no longer heard the mage scream at night. He had grown tougher, learning to keep his sounds of pain to himself, not giving the orcs the satisfaction of knowing how they hurt him. She worried about her old friend constantly, not understanding how Khadgar could still hate Lothar so much, how Lothar was still the focus of his rage, as the _orcs_ beat him. She figured he was too far gone to think anything else. And what worried her even more than Khadgar’s mental health was what he would do when he saw the commander in the flesh.

Ignoring her fears, Garona grabbed the keys off of a small hook near the door of the room, and went to unlock his shackles. The mage stirred as he was released, quickly waking up as he heard the sounds of battle around him.

“What the….Garona?” he asked groggily, standing up and rubbing his sore wrists.

“Khadgar, c’mon, we need to get you out of here. This is your chance to escape! Let’s go!” she replied, beckoning him towards the door. The mage shook his tiredness out of his head and followed her, the whole situation feeling like a dream.

When he got out of the building, Khadgar saw he was surrounded by orcs battling humans adorned in Alliance colors.

_‘Alliance troops…that means….he’s here,’_ the mage thought, anger quickly filling his mind and body. Khadgar began looking around, searching for him. Looking for any sign of those conniving, evil, blue eyes.

He searched and searched but saw nothing.

Khadgar then heard a deep yell of pain, coming from his left. Looking over, he saw someone kneeling over a dead orc’s body, about 20 yards away. There was a dark hand strewn to the side of the body….

_‘Blackhand…,’_ Khadgar realized, and with that, he knew there was only one human who would be capable of taking down the orc. The kneeling figure stood, and sheathed his sword.  
Garona watched the mage react to the sight of the commander, and knew she needed to step in.

“LOTHAR!” she yelled, getting Lothar’s attention even over the sound of the battle. He turned around, brow furrowing slightly at seeing Garona, readying his sword. Lothar quickly sheathed his weapon when he saw Khadgar next to her, looking angrier than ever. The mage readied a spell, Lothar’s eyes widening when he figured it was directed at him.

“LOTHAR! RUN!” Garona warned again, and the commander obeyed immediately. He sprinted back towards the gate, a fireball barely skimming the end of his hair. Khadgar took off after him, with Garona in tow after the surprisingly fast, newly recovered mage. 

Lothar ran faster than he ever had before. He had never seen Khadgar look so furious, so deadly. And he was coming after Lothar.

The commander’s singed hair flowed in the wind as he sprinted out of Stonard and deeper into the swamp. His feet splashed loudly in puddles, getting farther and farther away from the fort. He trudged through the thick mud, stopping just before a larger puddle to look back for Khadgar and other ways to run.

As he turned around, Lothar saw Khadgar getting closer, Garona right on his heels. He turned back to run again, but his feet were suddenly trapped in ice.

Lothar frantically hacked at the ice, looking back now and then as the mage got closer and closer.

Garona lunged at him, managing to hook his recently healed ankle as she fell, causing him to yelp in pain and fall. As Khadgar scrambled to get up, he fired an ice tomb at Garona, locking her in place against the ground. The mage stood up again, sprinting full force towards the commander.

Lothar had just gotten free as Khadgar tackled him, both of them crashing into the water. They struggled for a bit, the commander dodging punches here and there from Khadgar. Although the spell-chucker was able to put up more of a fight, Lothar was still able to overpower him, pinning the mage down on the ground near the edge of the water.

Looking into Khadgar’s eyes, Lothar saw a fury unlike any before. His brown orbs were filled with anger and a bit of rabid fear, like a wild animal.

He began another spell before the commander covered his mouth with his hand, using his knees to keep Khadgar’s arms down.

“Spell-chucker! Listen to me! I’m not here to hurt you! I came to save you!” Lothar said, having to shift his weight to keep the furious mage down. The commander felt Khadgar’s teeth against his hand, as if he was trying to bite him.

“Khadgar! Please! If there’s any shread of the old you in there…please….relax. I promise I won’t hurt you,” Lothar pleaded, looking deep into the mage’s eyes.

The gears began to turn in Khadgar’s head, trying to figure out what to do. He figured deception would be the only way, realizing he would not be able to squirm out of Lothar’s wretched grasp.

The mage let himself relax, and stopped fighting against the commander, hoping Lothar would fall for it.

_‘C’mon, you bastard. Let me go. I’m doing what you want,’_ Khadgar thought, making himself look helpless. Lothar took a deep breath and shifted backwards, letting go of Khadgar.

The mage sat up faster than Lothar could react, finally getting the edge on him. They fell again into the water, the commander too disoriented to overpower the mage this time. He felt familiar hands close around his neck, forcing his head underwater. Lothar blindly grasped at the mage, trying to find something, anything, to get him to stop. Through the murky water, the commander saw Khadgar’s face squished into a tight glare, snarling as he held Lothar under. The world began to fade out as he inhaled too much water, his grasping becoming weaker and weaker.

Then the hands around his throat released, the mage falling onto Lothar limply.

The commander was yanked out of the water, gasping and sputtering. He turned to see a heavily breathing Garona beside him, bits of frost still stuck to her hair. She calmed herself down before pulling the now unconscious mage out of the water, and laid him gently beside her.

“What….what did you do…,” Lothar coughed out.

“He was going to kill you, if you didn’t figure that out already. And he tried to freeze me. So I hit him upside the head with this rock,” Garona explained, pointing to a small boulder near the edge of the water.

Lothar regained his breath before offering her a small smile of thanks, then looking back to Khadgar.

“I’m sorry, Lothar. I couldn’t stop it, what they did to him. I just hope you remember that that's not the real him,” the half-orc said softly, seeing the sadness hidden in the commander’s eyes.

“No…its not your fault, Garona..its mine. And I want to apologize for blaming you for Llane…I realize now it was what he wanted,” Lothar replied, looking back to Garona.

She nodded slowly, and stood up.

“I think we need to get back. Your sister will worry about you,” she said, offering a hand to Lothar. He nodded in agreement, hoisting the mage over his shoulder as he stood.

They made their way slowly back to Stonard, that was now burning.

Lothar walked back to the center of the camp, earning odd looks for holding the mage. One of his lieutenants gave the commander a horse, which Lothar set Khadgar up on before climbing on himself.

He commanded his troops to start back towards Stormwind, and to give Garona a horse to ride on.

The way towards the city was quiet, and the mage, who was still out, was warm against the commander’s chest. He had missed the feeling greatly. Lothar tried to forget that Khadgar had just tried to kill him as he held the younger man close to him, hoping the moment would never end.

It would be a long road to recovery, but the commander knew the spell-chucker would be more than worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave any prompt ideas or gift requests below, I am still taking them. Those of you that have already left them, don't worry, your fics are coming, I can assure you!  
> Thank you for your endless patience :)
> 
> Also! I had an idea! For all you artists out there, I had an idea for a piece you could make if you felt up to it. I was thinking you could draw the two of them face to face, Lothar looking down sadly with his eyes closed, maybe holding Khadgar's cheek(???), but Khadgar screaming like a maniac at him like all angry and a lil scared. Idk, its just an idea, but run away with it if you want. If you do make one and have a tumblr, post it and tag me (@bearlynerdy aka Scoobee the Explorer) and I'd love to see what you make!
> 
> #thisrecoverybouttobepainfulaf

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the love!


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